Angels Really Do Come In Unusual Packages
by SiriuslyFanatical
Summary: Sirius rescues Hermione from the hell of survival. AU. SBHG
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER…although I wouldn't mind owning his godfather.

"Angels really do come in unusual packages. What happened to you?" She whispered as he held her bridal style and carried her back inside the house, "How did you become what you are, Sirius?"

"After we die some people are given a mission. You are my mission, Hermione. I am here for you."

"A guardian angel?" She asked with curiosity and anticipation written on her face.

"Of sorts I suppose, yes." He chuckled lightly into her hair as he kissed her forehead and laid her down on the couch.

She smiled up at him with warmth as she took in his black leather trousers and crisp white shirt.

"I'm glad it's you and not a stranger. You look right as an angel."

He smiled down at her and remembered her as the child that had helped Harry rescue him from the impending doom of the Dementor's Kiss all those years ago. He had to admit to himself that he looked much better now than he did that night. Death had granted his youth back, albeit with wings and a mission that, if he knew Hermione Granger well enough, would be nothing less than excruciatingly difficult.

"_Protect her," _The archangel had told him,_ "Protect her at all costs. She has seen too much and survived too much. She is broken woman and it is your job to rescue her from her mind's own hell, Sirius Black." _

So here he was, watching his dead godson's best friend fall asleep after finding her freezing and crying in the garden of Grimauld Place for her friends and mentors, all of whom had been lost to her by the end of the war and it was up to him to save her from the nightmares and guilt of survival as well as the impending danger of scattered Death Eaters and Ministry inquisitions which would surely follow the final death of Voldemort.

A/N: No idea where this is going to go. Let me know if you like it and I might come up with something more. Cheers.


	2. Chapter 2

She awoke slowly the ext morning from an incredible dream. Hermione, whose life in recent months had been relatively horrifying, had a dream that, despite consoling her pained soul, also disturbed her beyond belief. Why would she, of all people be dreaming that Sirius Black had returned as her guardian angel? It was not only illogical but on some level she felt guilt that she was happy to have dreamt about him although she felt she should be dreaming of her closest friends and family who were lost to the war which had ended surreally whilst she was tricked into hiding from the violent and terrifying combat.

Hermione stood up from the couch where she supposed she had fallen asleep the night before and pulled her hair back from her eyes. Looking around the room she took it in, squinting in the orange glow of the morning sunlight that was flowing in the windows of Grimauld Place.

As she looked across the room to the old sideboard she realized that not everything was as she left it. Hermione Granger was obsessed with keeping the house clean out of respect for Harry's late godfather and she herself never drank, so why was there a bottle of Ogden's and a glass sitting on the sideboard? Curiously she wandered over to it as if it would attack her and gingerly picked up the glass and placed the bottle back in the cupboard before exiting the room and making her way to the kitchen.

Once at the kitchen doorway Hermione looked upon the large wooden table which she remembered from her childhood as being filled with people. Her eyes began to tear up for all those she had lost. Harry, Ron, Ginny, Remus, Tonks, Kingsley, Molly, Arthur, Dumbledore, Mcgonagall, even Mundungus Fletcher (although not reliable, was still an order member with a role to play in the war).

As the memories flooded back to her mind she lost all sense of where and when she was. Hermione looked on as the ghosts of the past flitted across her view and the dark dusty kitchen was replaced by that of her memories with Molly scolding Fred and George, Harry and Ron talking about quidditch, and the solemn dark haired Sirius sitting at the end of the table with a glass of Ogden's.

At this she dropped the glass and upon hearing it smash on the ancient stone floor was snapped back to the reality of loneliness, yet the feeling was different from before. She felt eyes on her, as if someone had soundlessly apparated into the room. Just before she made her move to take a step and clean up the glass she heard it. A sound, a voice she had not heard for years. A voice which had haunted her dreams last night and still rang like the harmonious and calming of church bells in her ears.

"Don't move, I've got it, love." The deep husky voice said from behind her. She froze.

"Sirius?"

The object of her suspicion walked around her and to the broom cupboard.

"The one and only," he said as he extracted a broom for use on her mess of shattered glass, "What's the matter, love? You seemed happy enough to see me last night. I mean, sure the wings are a bit of a put-off I guess, but I'm still me…I think."

At this the leather-clad angel in front of her peeked under his shirt and, to her utter shock and embarrassment, down the front of his trousers.

"Yep. All seems to be in order." He said before marching over to her and cleaning the mess around her bare feet without so much as an indication towards what he had just done.

Hermione let out a laugh, well perhaps not a laugh as such, she couldn't remember when she had last laughed, and it was more of a chuckle as she watched Sirius clean the kitchen of the house which he hated so passionately.


End file.
